


Impossible World Theory

by en passant (corinthian)



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh! 5D's, Yu-Gi-Oh! ARC-V
Genre: F/M, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-03
Updated: 2015-07-03
Packaged: 2018-04-07 11:58:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,099
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4262457
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/corinthian/pseuds/en%20passant
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It’s one of those destined movie-meetings: Jack is thinking about his next duel, about his deck and D-Wheel and about Roger’s hand on his shoulder and whispered <i>long live the king</i> in his ear. Yuusei is thinking about the multiverse and the butterfly effect and dreams where the city lays in wasted ruin and it’s all his fault. They are both too distracted and turn opposite sides of a street corner simultaneously and run into each other.</p><hr/><p>ARC-V AU, sort of. Jack and Yuusei collide and fall apart. Carly and Yuusei are scheming. Carly and Jack have each other until they don't.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Impossible World Theory

They meet by chance — because Roger is a busy man and Jack isn’t one to stay cooped up forever in a tower. They meet because Jack realizes he has no idea how anything in the city works, has to skirt around the monorail and avoid the fanciest looking shops and feels like a fugitive even though he’s well _earned_ his right to be here. 

It’s one of those destined movie-meetings: Jack is thinking about his next duel, about his deck and D-Wheel and about Roger’s hand on his shoulder and whispered _long live the king_ in his ear. Yuusei is thinking about the multiverse and the butterfly effect and dreams where the city lays in wasted ruin and it’s all his fault. They are both too distracted and turn opposite sides of a street corner simultaneously and run into each other.

Jack’s used to running people over, he has a size advantage on pretty much everyone he meets and he finds himself surprised to be the one knocked back and onto his ass. (Yuusei, always, has learned to brace himself against the ground with the soles of his feet, as steadfast as anything.)

“Watch where you’re going!” Jack snaps.

“You ran into me,” Yuusei replies with a little cocky jaunt to his head. Jack, who almost never finds himself looking up at other people can’t do anything besides fume and wonder exactly why he was being looked _through_.

(Yuusei was thinking about a universe where he didn’t run into Jack Atlas on the streets of Neo Domino, of course.)

And then Yuusei offers Jack a hand up. “I’ll make it up to you.” He says. Jack isn’t one to turn down free offers — even now, or maybe it’s especially now. There are no allies for the king in the city, and it’s all too convenient how Yuusei’s hand fits perfectly inside his. Introductions only come five minutes later, as an afterthought.

Jack finds out — over extremely expensive coffee and pound cake (topped with chamomile butter and bee pollen and it’s so ridiculous but also the best thing Jack’s ever eaten) — that Yuusei’s an “idea man.” He’s only sixteen, the same age as Jack, but he works for almost every big corporation in the city. He basically just gives them ideas, works through problems, is some kind of genius. Yuusei doesn’t say it like that, of course. Instead he says, “I do some work for some companies. Mostly troubleshooting and consultation.” 

But when pushed about it — Roger _consults_ and Jack knows exactly how that goes, Yuusei has to add: “Projects I’ve worked on. . .well, the AI that finds dueling lanes, the ocean lights, that kind of thing.” While Jack didn’t know squat about AI, he did know that the ocean lights were some kind of New Amazing Thing — perpetual energy buoys that clearly marked not only shallow water and hazards but also connected to a greater network and were able to send alerts to incoming ships about unusual weather or other things. It was a bit above his head, but even people in the Commons know about them. They’re cheap, easy to buy and a good asset for anyone running their own fishing boat, which many people did.

“Ashamed of your accomplishments? Playing at being humble only makes a fool out of yourself.” Jack interrupts.

“Do you ever think about possibilities?” Yuusei asks, immediately after. “That somewhere, there’s a possibility that I never contributed to any of those ideas.”

“What’s the point in hypotheticals? Reality is where we have to live.” Jack pounds his chest with his fist, almost upsetting their spread of treats and coffee.

“Isn’t the idea of a better possibility what drove you to become king?” Yuusei scrutinizes. Jack can’t read the expression, there’s something immensely guilty about it. It’s different from most of the Tops people who interact with Jack, who find him _too poor_ for their tastes, but can’t deny his talent. There’s almost an understanding there, but also, possibly, pity.

“My path to king was my reality from birth.” Jack has said it, so often, that it may as well be true. He doesn’t think desperation and belief in possibility are the same, at all, anyway.

Yuusei starts laughing. It’s not _at_ Jack, but Jack can’t help but feel anger run down his spine. (Even if it’s a nice laugh, the kind of laugh that invites him to join in.)

“Shut up! I _am_ the king,” Jack hisses.

“I know,” Yuusei says, when he stops laughing. “I wasn’t laughing at you. For a moment, you really made me believe.”

He doesn’t say believe in _what_ and Jack knows, it wasn’t about kingship at all. It might not even have been about Jack. He eats the rest of the cookies, drinks three cups of coffee and plans to use as much of Yuusei’s money as possible, since he did offer to treat him. Yuusei doesn’t complain, and Jack figures he must be rich.

“In a universe, somewhere,” Yuusei says, when he pays the bill with a slim black credit card that doesn’t have a name printed on it, but instead a swirling fancy circuit chip and fingerprint. “We’ve never met. And in another one, maybe I’m king instead.”

“Fat chance.” Jack says.

“Yeah, you’re right. It doesn’t suit me.” Yuusei agrees, laughing again. Jack would like to join in, but all too soon Yuusei’s signed the receipt, left an overly generous tip, and bid Jack goodbye. “Maybe we’ll run into each other again.”

There’s a possibility that they might.

* * *

Their next meeting isn’t by chance at all. Yuusei finds him, after a match, and Jack wonders exactly who Yuusei is that he can just simply walk through all of the Security, into the bowels of the stadium and be waiting for Jack when he gets out of the (private) locker rooms. Someone rich and powerful enough, even though his clothes seem casual — tennis shoes, jeans, a simple tee and dark blue jacket. But Jack can see the silver thread at the jacket cuffs, the gold and green pendent on a cord around his neck and the elegant watch with no numbers, just digital hands.

“Do you like to stargaze?” Yuusei asks, there’s an unabashed eagerness to him. Jack finds it naive. 

“Who has time for that?”

“I do. You do now, too. Would you like to come this weekend?” Yuusei isn’t deterred at all. “It’ll be a two day trip, though, with camping. Not sure if you’re into that. Mr. King.”

And, Jack knows, Yuusei is making fun of him a little. He hates the idea of camping, really, why would he go out and spend nights on uncomfortable ground _willingly_. He had fought hard to escape that reality, after all. He had, never, though, taken time to look at the stars. There had been enough things on the ground to keep him occupied. The king rules on earth, not the sky.

“Just stargazing?” Jack crosses his arms.

(Is there really _just_ anything? Yuusei’s been in love with life since as long as he could remember.)

“I’ll make it worth your time,” Yuusei promises.

“Fine, it better be.” Jack agrees to go.

It both is and isn’t. Yuusei drives them out — in the crappiest car that Jack has ever seen, it must be at least thirteen years old and it’s clear that despite Yuusei’s best efforts to keep it running, the car just wants to give up — for five hours to the middle of nowhere. There’s not even cell reception. But there is a small house, that doesn’t have electricity, just candles and a wood burning stove and Jack feels like Yuusei’s tricked him into doing something though, really, he should have asked probably.

“Can’t afford a better car?” Jack sneers, when Yuusei lights two lanterns on the house porch.

“It was my father’s,” Yuusei shrugs. “I don’t really like wasting things.” (I don’t let go of memories, easily.)

“In another universe, you buy a real car and we go to a real house with plumbing and electricity.” Jack continues.

“It adds charm,” Yuusei counters and gestures for Jack to follow him up the stairs. The roof of the small house is flat, someone erected railing around it and there’s even a little charcoal grill and once Yuusei sets up the blankets and pillows, it’s almost cozy. Not that Jack would admit to that.

Somehow, the dark of the night gets darker. Navy darkness turns to black and then a deep violet that is unexplainable and to Jack, it’s more than a little surreal. The horizon goes from orange to blue to nothing and he’s aware of nothing but the roof, the cushions and Yuusei next to him, pointing out the stars. Cetus, Perseus, Cassiopeia and then, of course, Auriga, the Charioteer. 

“The future-king, troubles born from the earth,” Yuusei’s amusement is clear in his voice, even if Jack can’t see his expression in the dark. “An ancient hero protected by Athena and credited for the four-wheeled chariot.”

“Is that an insult?” Jack grumbles. “If you want to say something, say it outright. Implying things just makes you a coward or hesitant, neither is worth my time.”

“A coward?” Yuusei asks and Jack almost misses the next comment, “Yeah, maybe.”

* * *

He won’t ever say it, but Jack’s glad that he met Yuusei. Yuusei isn’t from home, he’s not at all Common. Yuusei’s always thinking about things but he almost never _does_ things. It drives Jack up the wall a bit. He’s also seen Yuusei work though, because Yuusei’s apartment is comfortable (and large) enough for them to each have their own space and sometimes Jack needs to get away from his handlers. He has no illusions about what they want him for, Commons born brat who inspires and motivates — it’s at least, half propaganda. He knows he’s being used and, only sometimes, that knowledge crushes his spirit more than he’d like to admit.

There’s something sterile about Yuusei’s apartment. It’s a family space and there’s bedrooms that Jack has never seen Yuusei open the door to. The living room decor looks two decades old, but Yuusei keeps it perfectly clean and pristine. In a way, Yuusei’s apartment is like a time capsule, a closed off world that Yuusei never changes and only leaves to work, or apparently, hang out with Jack.

Despite the fact that Yuusei spent most of his time at his apartment, he slept on the couch. When Jack was over Yuusei sheepishly offered him an inflatable mattress, or they could both try to cram onto the narrow couch in the den to sleep. Jack, usually, accepted the couch offer.

He does all his work in an empty room in the back. It has one large screen and a table that’s covered in papers and random objects and then there’s several other screens set up. Jack’s watched as a call comes in on one screen, Yuusei walks through a problem — something, something, physics, reactors, something — while occasionally fitting together some other kind of project on a different screen while his hands disassemble and reassemble a small engine.

It always leaves Yuusei exhausted, though. He’ll slump in the chair or just fall asleep, hands still deep inside a project. Jack finds it really irritating, since sometimes it means that whatever plans they might have for the day get canceled or there’s no chance to say goodbye for the day. It’s rude. Yuusei has no sense of common decency, sometimes.

When Yuusei sleeps, one day, Jack opens up the closed bedrooms.

The first room is clearly a couple’s room — he would guess a man and a woman. The bed isn’t made, but the sheets are free of dust. Jack wonders if every week, Yuusei does the laundry and then replaces the sheets and covers, half thrown back and purposefully in disarray. The closet door is half-open, a jewelry box on the dresser has its lid up. It looks like the bedroom of two people who were going to work one morning and never came home. Jack hates it, because it feels haunted and even though he doesn’t believe in ghosts the bedroom carries such a heavy — and fucked up — atmosphere that he practically slams the door shut.

The other bedroom is a kid’s room. There are Duel Monsters cards on the floor, a telescope for kids, little Lego robotics parts, that kind of thing. It’s messy, but unlike the other bedroom, a thin layer of dust covers everything. No one’s been in there in a long time. Jack knows, this had to have been Yuusei’s room.

* * *

Yuusei introduces Jack to Carly, a year after the stargazing trip. She’s cute, in a sort of klutzy loud way. Yuusei only meets Carly at places _not_ his apartment and he’s always uncomfortable about it. Jack can’t quite put his finger on why, at first he thought it was because Carly was so . . . Carly, but that couldn’t be it.

“You didn’t tell me you were friends with the king, Yuusei!” Carly exclaims and immediately pulls out a dictaphone and shoves it in Jack’s face. “So, what are a few words you’d like to share with the public!”

“Carly, you can interview him after — I have another meeting to get to.” Yuusei interrupts. “Did you get any of that stuff?”

“Oh! Yes, you wouldn’t believe it. The cover-up is intense. Pay attention to mentions of the professor, definitely.” Carly passes Yuusei a large stack of printed papers. A waste of paper, Jack think, almost everything is digital these days. “Are you saying. . .” And she jerks her head at Jack, not so subtly asking if he could be trusted.

“Jack’s a good guy,” Yuusei smiles.

(In another universe, Yuusei will always still believe in Jack, anyway.)

“Not that I doubted it! You’re really — really something. It’s good to see someone from the Commons stick it to the Tops,” Carly grins and tucks her dictaphone into her pocket before holding her hand out to Jack. “Congratulations, may you have many victories in the future as well!”

Jack shakes her hand, for once, feeling a little off-balance by a reporter. He and Carly chat while Yuusei skims through the papers she handed him. Jack watches him out of the corner of his eye, catches the deepening frown.

“Sorry — got to run, Carly, you’ll take care of Jack, won’t you?” Yuusei’s phone alarm goes off and he stands, offering the papers back to Carly. “Interesting. Meet again, next week?”

“Sure thing! Thanks for giving me a chance to take the king out on a date!” Carly waves at him. The first place she drags Jack, though, is a paper shredding stop. Then they go to four different areas in the city for her to dispose of the shreddings. As much as Jack hates to admit it, after that, he has a lot of fun with Carly.

* * *

Meetings with Roger were always short. The man never liked to give Jack a straight answer about anything and they weren’t even supposed to interact that much. But, four years ago, Jack had been given a chance — and every chance came with a cost.

“Your larger role is still yet to come,” Roger says, without saying what that was or when. Jack’s hands curl into fists but he knows — knows from experience — that an outburst won’t do him any good. “Though, I have heard something interesting.”

As usual, Roger makes Jack say it, makes _Jack_ ask it.

“ _What_.” He grinds out.

“Fudou Yuusei.” 

(In another universe — )

“Yeah, so?” Jack asks. He ignores the clench in his chest, the dull heaviness in his throat that makes his voice sound flat to his ears. Roger’s lips twitch upward, and Jack can practically see _check_ written on his face.

“It’s good that you two are friends. He’s truly an asset to the city.”

Jack laughs — harsh, mocking. “He’s smart, so what? I’m the symbol, you made me the symbol here. I’m worth far more than he is.” It burns his pride, but that’s been smoldering for years. He’s far too aware of how things work in the Tops, faced too much of their stupid political games not to understand how it works. Jack’s won every victory on his own, but the propaganda, the posturing, the king as a symbol of hope and key for the Commons to be able to rise to the Top? He knows that’s been fabricated.

There’s a cost for every opportunity.

“I never said which of you had more value. All the pieces have a purpose.”

And with that, Jack’s dismissed.

* * *

Yuusei is forward moving and blunt in so many things. And infuriatingly passive and stubbornly immovable on others. Jack can’t believe that he spends so much time with him, as irritating as he is. 

“You need to buy a new car.” Jack says, the third time that week that Yuusei called him to ask for help because his car broke down and he needs a ride. Jack’s D-Wheel isn’t built for two and Yuusei always sits side saddle which is bizarre but Jack knows it’s because there’s not enough room on the seat unless Yuusei wants to get crushed up against the back of Wheel of Fortune.

“My car’s fine,” Yuusei answers in that completely placid-but-stubborn-as-shit voice that Jack’s grown accustomed to. “It just needs a little more work.”

“You don’t need to keep driving it just because it’s your father’s,” Jack finally snaps. He can feel Yuusei stiffen on the seat behind him. It’s not something Jack really understands, after all, he never knew his parents. He doesn’t really have people he mourns, not like that. It’s always been Jack Atlas against the world and he didn’t have the patience for people stuck in their own heads. Except Yuusei. And even Yuusei tried his patience more often than not.

“It’s not that,” Yuusei shrugs, making a swift recovery. “I won’t need a car soon anyway.”

“Planning on walking everywhere? You’re an airhead, knowing your luck, you’d walk right into traffic.” Jack grumbles. Yuusei can concentrate on an idea and be dead to the world for hours on end, even when doing other things. It was absent-minded professor taken to an extreme, really.

“It’s a secret,” Yuusei says, but he’s leaning forward and his lips are close to Jack’s cheek, just underneath the edge of his helmet. “If I told you, I’d have to kill you.” And then he laughs and maybe it’s because his voice gets lost in the wind, but Jack thinks there’s something terribly off about it.

In an alternate universe, it’s them against the world, together.

* * *

Jack celebrates a victory with Carly. Yuusei’s off on business, somewhere, Carly tells him — “Yuusei wanted to let you know.” There’s a little nervousness to her when she says it but as soon as she finds out that he’s, once again, won the tournament she insists they go out. 

Carly takes him to a fancy restaurant that is also private. It’s unlike any of the places Jack normally goes as a victor and, somehow, even more expensive but Carly explains they pay extra for privacy. And for the first time since he’s moved to the city, an after-duel-victory-dinner is devoid of all reporters but Carly. He answers some of her questions, finds none of them leading — except the one where she asks if he has a special message for the kids in the Commons — and Carly knows when to put away her reporter gear and enjoy a meal.

She’s a messy eater, drips both wine and sauce on her shirt and laughs and says she keeps an extra with her just in case.

“Carly, what are you and Yuusei doing?” Jack finally asks, when they’ve exhausted all of the innocuous questions and banter. Jack finds Carly a good argumentative barter, she’s as loud as he is and just as clever as Yuusei.

But his question catches her off-guard and she pushes her glasses up further on her nose and laughs. “Ahaha, what? Doing? I’m just helping a friend out with research sometimes! He’s so busy, he can’t possibly get all those reports done on his own, you know?” It’s a good lie, because Yuusei is busy and because Carly has a way with gathering knowledge, but Jack thinks there must be more.

“Stop fucking around.” He thunders.

“Neither of us are going to let you get involved, Jack Atlas.” Carly says, warmly and with a kind of steel in her voice he didn’t think she had. “We like you too much and you mean a lot — you know, to everyone. A king from the Commons is so important.” The last part she says reverently, and Jack is reminded of Roger and his chess pieces and scheming.

“The king always takes care of his subjects,” Jack counters. He can’t seem to escape that kind of phrasing, not anymore. But it’s also true. He’s the king of the city and he means to carry it in every way.

“Good thing we’re outside your jurisdiction,” Carly grins and then claps her hands. “Let’s get dessert and another bottle of wine! I want to drink and swoon and have you carry me home!”

And so, they get another bottle of wine. Carly’s swoon is more like a trip, but Jack sweeps her up into his arms anyway and carries her home. Sharing a bed with Carly is a lot more comfortable than wedged onto the couch with Yuusei, but the cool air on his back instead of the rough couch cushions reminds me that he’s being left out.

* * *

Yuusei’s gone for a month. Jack hardly misses him, because he fills his days with Carly. Later, he wonders, if that was part of the plan.

* * *

The apartment is packed up. Jack realizes it as soon as he enters, a step behind Yuusei. Everything is gone. The old furniture in the living room, the two bedroom doors are open, even the stupid couch in the den is gone. There’s just the inflatable bed on the middle of the floor and far too many machine parts scattered around. Only a single lamp remains, casting the whole place in a dingy yellow light.

“Had to decon the place,” Yuusei says, doesn’t explain what ‘decon’ means and shuts the door behind Jack. He then locks it, three times and Jack can hear a soft whirr of a fourth, more secret lock. 

And then, “You mean a lot to me, Jack.” It’s far too straightforward and far too sudden. Jack can’t deny that they’ve spent a lot of time together, that they’ve shared beds and that he trusts Yuusei almost as much as he trusts Carly, but something in the back of his mind is sending up a red flag.

“Is this a confession? Because you need to work on your presentation skills. I expected a lot more from you, Yuusei. I deserve better.” Jack says, almost defensive. Surprise flickers across Yuusei’s face and his eyes roam around, as if searching for the answer.

“I’m asking you for a favor,” Yuusei tries again. “Just one night.” The shadows on his face make Jack think about stargazing and, for once, some of Yuusei’s stupid alternate world theories. In another universe, they’re at Jack’s penthouse suite, on a big, luxurious bed, and it isn’t just for one night.

Stupid. Ridiculous.

“You should know, you set us up.” Jack snaps. “I thought you and Carly were friends.”

Yuusei’s eyebrows knit together, like he can’t figure out what that has to do with anything and then his expression relaxes. “Oh, is that all.”

“Don’t ‘oh, is that all’ at me. What the hell are you playing at? I didn’t think you were this kind of guy.” Jack turns, because he should leave. The red flags in the back of his mind have turned into a constant warning thrum he feels deep in his chest. Something is Wrong.

“I’ll call her,” Yuusei says. “She knows, already, anyway.”

Before Jack can yell at him, tell him not to, Yuusei’s already pulled out his cellphone and dialed. He puts her on speaker.

“Jack?” Carly asks, sounding eager. “Yuusei says you’re there.”

“I am, but I’m _leaving_.” Jack answers.

“I just asked him for a single night,” Yuusei laughs, softly, dryly, like he and Carly know a hidden secret and have once again left Jack out. “Then he’s yours, forever.”

“I’ve always wanted to be part of a love triangle!” Carly says with the kind of enthusiasm that Jack has always liked about her. “I don’t mind, Yuusei and I — we’re really good friends. And I trust him and I trust you, but if you’re not comfortable with it either, that’s your choice. You could always leave the phone on too!” Her voice travels from comforting and soothing to half-joking, half-anticipatory. Jack has to laugh, but he knows it’s not a pretty sound.

“I won’t play your game, either of yours.”

He’s not looking at Yuusei, so he misses the expression — pained, wistful, fond. “You’re right, I’m sorry for being selfish.” Yuusei agrees. “Sorry for the call, Carly. Take care.” He hangs up then and tucks the phone back into his pocket.

“I did mean it though. I’m really glad we met.” Yuusei sees Jack out.

* * *

Yuusei’s gone.

* * *

Carly doesn’t pressure him, but she’s there. He has her number and a key to her place — as cramped and chaotic as it is. He knows he could visit her but he doesn’t exactly know what to do. There’s no way that he would go to her to cry on her shoulder or something as pathetic as that.

Besides, what would he say? They both knew that someone named Fudou Yuusei had once existed, had lived in an apartment that burned down two days ago. The someone named Fudou Yuusei had paid for coffee for Jack once, had taken him stargazing, had showed him small secret places in the city that hadn’t been that remarkable but they had been memorable. But there was no Fuduou Yuusei listed in any phone book, no pages about his contributions to any research projects, no Fudou Yuusei anywhere.

He could say, Yuusei — a friend, an important friend, just disappeared, but even that sounds false. Had they even been friends? Had Yuusei wanted to be _more_ than friends?

Jack realizes, there had been a possibility. But no chance came without a cost.

He throws himself into dueling fully, and as always, it’s the best way to keep moving forward. He had a title to defend, he would never exhaust his supply of challengers. Jack always, too, enjoyed defeating them. Almost all of them were from the Tops anyway, snooty assholes who thought they were better than him just because of where they were born.

Twice, he thinks he can see Yuusei after a match. His silhouette in the hallway of the stadium, the back of his jacket in a crowd.

Jack even, finally, asks Roger about him. “Where’s Yuusei?” He demands it, because of anyone, Roger would know. The man is holding a queen — black — and sets it off to the side of the board.

“Who?” He asks.

Jack doesn’t resist his urge to sweep all of the chess pieces off the board and onto the floor. “Don’t play dumb with me.” He snarls.

“You should ask your reporter friend, she’s been snooping around lately. It would be a shame if she got in over her head.”

That’s all the answer that Jack needs, really. He storms out of Roger’s office, demands Carly meets with him and doesn’t wait for her answer before driving to her apartment.

It’s really too similar. When he gets there he finds her packing. Her glasses are pushed up into her hair and her expression is so determined she almost looks like someone else. She gives him a vaguely vicious smile that melts into her typical fond grin.

“Jack! I’m glad you made it — I have some things for you.” She digs into her bag and holds out a deck box. “Yuusei left these for you, I’ve added some things of my own. But — listen, you have to stay king until we get back. Don’t let anyone unseat you.”

“Who do you think I’ll lose to?!” Jack can’t believe what she’s implying.

“There’s so much more, I wish I could tell you, but the less you know the better, really. Trust me, I love you.” Then she flings herself at him, wraps her arms around him and holds on tight. He can feel her trembling, a little and automatically holds her close.

“Carly, don’t.” He starts to say, but cuts himself off.

“I’ll be back, definitely.” She grins and pulls back enough to look him in the eye. He lowers her glasses down, back over her face, because that’s the Carly he knows. “Maybe, Yuusei will return too.” He doesn’t miss the way her smile falters, there, though.

“You can’t go,” Jack knows he sounds like a child, but he doesn’t know what else to say. All the words he wants to say — the words, maybe, he should have said to Yuusei too — won’t come to him. All he can do is hold onto her, demand that she consider _his_ needs. “You won’t find anyone better than me to be with.” It’s clumsy.

“Of course I won’t! I have big plans for us, Jack! You’re the only one in my heart.” But she carefully pulls his hands away from her and goes back to frantically shoving things into her bag. “So, wait for me.”

“I shouldn’t have to.”

“I know.”

“Don’t keep me waiting too long. I can’t make any other promises.”

“Good. I’m cheering for you,” Carly laughs, kisses both his cheeks and then his lips and shoves him towards the door and then out into the hallway. “Go home. We’ll definitely meet again. After all, we’re going to get married, right? Don’t worry, I’ve been practicing how to ride a D-Wheel!”

He protests, spits out, “That’s ridiculous! Do you even know how to duel!?”

And then she shuts the door in his face.

* * *

The deck box Carly left him with has two disks of information that Jack doesn’t read. The deck box has a card called Heraldry Record in it, one called Mispolymerization and one called Wavering eyes. There’s also a handwritten note from Carly that just says _Good Luck! #1 Jack Atlas Fan!_ and — it isn’t a card, but a single smooth blue stone that looks like the stars, he knows Yuusei must have left it for him, he just doesn’t know why.


End file.
